


Kusketa Mohekun: The Story of the Black Wolf

by AshWolfForever



Category: Baree: Son of Kazan - James Oliver Curwood, Snow Dog - Jim Kjelgaard, White Fang - Jack London
Genre: Alaska, Crossover, Dogs, Drama, Gen, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshWolfForever/pseuds/AshWolfForever
Summary: A black wolf named Kuzketa is the sole survivor of his mother's last litter. After her death, he finds himself at odds with humans, dogs, and other wolves. A story in the style / meant to imitate Jack London and James Oliver Curwood. It is also an older piece I may revise in the future. My writing has since improved, but I have chosen to share it anyway.
Kudos: 1





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a tribute to three writers of classic wolf stories: James Oliver Curwood, from whom I took the title, he referred to it as a moniker for the title character in his novel "Baree"; Jack London, whose novel "White Fang" inspired the backbone of this story; and lastly, Jim Kjelgaard, whose villain in the novel "Snow Dog" is my title character thinly disguised. Please enjoy this look into the heart of the black wolf.

I do not know my mother’s name; when I was old enough to think of her as someone other than “mother” she was dead. As for my father, I never knew him at all; he was killed before my entrance into this world. I was born in a land of perpetual snow and ice – it was always cold, and sustenance few and far between. At first, there were five in my pack: my mother, littermates, and myself. But by the next spring, all that was left were she and I.

Those early days, my first two years, were as close to carefree as I have ever known. We were the only predators in the area, the only thing to be feared. But of course, these days came to an end. And how well do I remember _how_ their conclusion arrived. 

Mother told me often of Man and all the things that concerned Him and his kind. Of dogs, creatures so akin to wolves they looked just the same but were _never_ to be trusted. For with dogs come men, and with men comes death and misfortune. And of human weapons: long sticks which could kill from miles away, and sharp jaws – harder than bone – which never let go once they had you in their grasp. All her warnings I heeded, until one day. The day humans destroyed _everything_.

I remember it as though it was yesterday. Our quiet homeland lay within miles of a human’s den, and while I had never ventured there, I was curious. So under the moon’s watchful gaze, I slipped into forbidden territory to quench my raging thirst for knowledge. It was a strange place, with tall structures and barriers. I discovered that humans had no need to hunt – they kept prey neatly trapped within walking distance of their lair. I marveled at the ingenuity of these creatures. It was then that I came upon one of the dogs my mother had warned me never to fraternize with.

She was a lightly built creature, roughly wolfish, but shorter and stockier. Her eyes carried no golden gleam; instead, a deep earth brown. She had barely passed out of puppyhood and saw me not as a threat but as a potential playmate. I had not played since having lost my littermates, and soon found myself frolicking with her in the moonlight. In my rapture, I forgot all caution, and soon our happy barks drew out her master.

I can recall with painful clarity the slam of the door, the sound of his shouts. The dog crouched and whined in subservience. I began to back away toward the trees, my mother’s teachings echoing in my ears. I saw him raise a long black and brown stick – the same weapon Mother had spoken of. And then, as if my very thoughts had summoned her, my mother was there.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. Her eyes went to the man, who had now leveled the weapon at us. “Run, you fool! Run!”

I am ashamed to admit the fear I felt then – how the terror held me. But the word of my mother was stronger, and I turned and ran. The sounds that I heard as I fled echoed in my ears for days afterward: a loud booming noise that made thunder sound quiet, and my mother’s cry of pain. Once I was safely in the forest, I hid and shivered as I waited for my mother to return. She never did. At last, loneliness overcame me and I returned to the human’s territory to search for her.

And I found her, or at least her hide. It hung from the fence, nose pointing toward the earth, eyes unseeing. Rage consumed me, but I managed not to growl. Instead, I crept forward toward the human’s den, my nose twitched as I sought the scent of the man and the dog. There would be blood for my mother’s death. I would relish it.

Light streamed out the openings in the den, and I carefully avoided these patches. There were shadows moving inside; then the lights went out. The noises inside stopped as well. I moved to lie beside the entrance. There I waited for the human and his slave to come out.

* * *

It was in the pre-dawn light that my waiting ended. There were noises once more inside the house. Then the door opened, and out came the bitch. I crouched low in the snow and held back my snarl. I would give no warning. There would be no mercy. But as I stood she saw me.

“Get away from here, wolf!” she growled, all our play clearly forgotten. “Or you’ll end up like that!” Here she indicated my mother’s hide. 

I growled low and circled closer, taking pleasure in the slight fear in her eyes. “Oh, I will leave… once my mother’s killer is dead in the snow.”

That brought out the reaction I wanted: she snarled. “My master will gut you like the fiend you are,” she countered, turning as quickly as she could, trying to keep facing me.

I spat in the snow. “Puppies,” I told her, feinting to the right. “That’s all you and your kind are. Separate you from your _master_ and you can’t even think on your own. Mindless shells without any courage.”

She glared at me then, raising her head high – too high, though she would learn that lesson too late. “Thieves,” she snapped as she tried to mimic my disgusted tone. “That’s all you and _your kind_ are! You –”

I will never know just what she intended to call me; in that moment I rushed in and sank my teeth into her throat. The warm, coppery liquid filled my mouth and bathed my tongue as she struggled for freedom. I shook my head, knocking her off her feet. In due time her pointless fighting stopped, and I tossed her limp body back into the snow. 

_One down,_ I thought, _one to go._

I moved so I was once more hidden in the shadows of the den. The human opened the door and called for his slave. At least that’s what I guess the shouts were. He saw her then and rushed out without watching his footing. His feet caught on one of the small ledges leading up to the den’s entrance and he fell, face first into the snow. It was then that I burst from my hiding place and sank my fangs into his neck. After the dog, I expected more resistance, but my teeth met in seconds, slashing through his skin as if it wasn’t there at all. Stunned, I let go and backed away. But he made no move to follow, or escape. I watched the fire, the life fade slowly from his eyes. And I was pleased, though the ache in my heart was still there.

But my mission was accomplished, and with one last look at my mother’s hide, I turned and left. I would leave this area and never return. As I walked away, I reflected on how easy it had been, to kill the human. They were weak creatures, not even as strong as the caribou my mother and I had brought down. I would never be afraid of them again. Only the strong merit respect and they were the weakest of all.


	2. The Others of My Blood

It was rough going, and lonely, as I traveled out of my homeland. We wolves aren’t meant to live solitary lives, and being alone was the hardest thing I ever had to face. The cold seemed to grow worse as I wandered, wondering if I would ever see another of my blood – as my mother had called other wolves. The forests grew less frequent, and the trees sparse as I got farther and farther away from the human den and my birthplace.

On a quiet full moon night, my isolation ended. I crossed the trail of two wolves, a male and a female, related by the scent of it. There was blood on the snow as well – they were hunting. I rushed to catch up. I found them racing across the cold, clear snow in pursuit of a creature larger than the caribou I had hunted. Hunger and loneliness built within me and took up a position to their left, my jaws searching for a hold.

Neither of the wolves took any notice of me until the kill was made. My jaws cracked the bone of one hind leg as the female closed hers on the creature’s nose. The male sank his fangs into her throat and soon enough its struggles ceased. Then both wolves tore into the kill, and I hurried to join them. But the moment my fangs sank into the steaming flesh the male closed his jaws on my hind leg and pulled me aside.

“Just who do you think you are?” demanded the lean gray wolf, snarling as he took an aggressive stance between his companion and myself.

I spun, getting my balance back in seconds. “I’m the one that just assisted you with this kill,” I snapped.

“We don’t want or need your help,” the wolf snarled.

My eyes, however, found the female. She was as white as I was black, her coat blending in beautifully with the snow. She never even looked up, but continued to devour the hot meat. I returned my attention to her companion and bared my fangs.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I countered. Though I was a bit wary that I might lose this chance to have some company, diplomacy had never been among my skills; one of the casualties of my solitary upbringing. “So move aside and let me eat already.”

“Nothing doing.”

The white female rolled her eyes. “Quit being such an idiot, Skolar,” she snapped. “He’s right and you know it.”

“Stay out of this, Blizzard!”

“Fine,” she said, returning to her meal. “Just don’t come whining to me when you get your tail kicked.”

 _Blizzard_ , I thought. The name fit her – she was white as the snow and her eyes were like ice. She clearly had no patience for her comrade’s idiocy. She would make a worthy companion. But I had other matters to attend to.

Skolar turned to face me with fangs bared. I rushed him and sank my teeth into his shoulder. Then everything was a blur of clashing fangs and flying fur. Even now I’m not sure how long it lasted, though I _do_ remember how it ended. My fangs met the gray wolf’s left eye and tore it from the socket. He cried out in pain and leaped back, pawing at the bloody remains of his eye. After a moment of foolish whimpering, he rolled onto his back in submission. I just ignored him and returned to the kill.

“So,” said the female. “You got a name?”

“Kuzketa,” I replied, snatching up a mouthful.

She smiled. “You’re the first of our blood we’ve come across. Thanks for knocking some sense into my brother – he’s been insufferable.”

“Anytime,” I told her. “I think you and I are going to get along just fine, Blizzard.”

She just nodded and we ate in silence. I spared her brother no attention as he crept over and began to eat as well. I would just have to tolerate his presence. Even fools are useful now and again.


	3. Bullet-Burned

I was right about Blizzard and I. We were well-matched companions: neither of us were unskilled fighters, nor had any patience for foolishness. Her brother grumbled but otherwise never tried to challenge me again. His eye healed in a fashion – the fur grew over the useless socket and in time he ceased his pointless whining. I had found what I had been searching for in the beautiful she-wolf. I now had a worthy mate; she was strong and brave, my perfect match. Slowly love began to grow between us, and we talked often of the pups we expected in the spring. Life was perfect.

Blizzard as it turned out knew far more about humans than my mother had. We made our home in a forest that housed another human’s den. On a regular basis, this male would wander the woods alone, placing dead rabbits and bits of meat in what my mate called “traps”. And his actions were a gift from Heaven – for weeks we ate the meat he so graciously left behind. Blizzard was a master at raiding the traps, and after watching a few times I was just as good as she.

So it was that one day we found ourselves bedded down in the forest near-by, resting in the snow after our latest meal. We had thought, having seen and heard the human so many times, that there was no way he could surprise us. We were wrong.

His scent came on a shift of the wind seconds before I heard the loud familiar _boom_ and what felt like a red-hot rock raced across the right side of my face. I let out an undignified yelp and we all leapt to our feet. Other shots followed – at least that’s what Blizzard later said they were – and we ran off into the trees, not stopping until we were far from the human and his home. Once we came to a halt, panting, the others got a good look at my face. 

My mate came over and nuzzled my neck.

Skolar laughed. “Guess I ain’t the only one scarred now,” he said, a little too pleased for my liking.

I growled at him and he cut it off quickly. Shaking my head, I pawed at the wound only to yelp again. It _hurt_.

“Press your face to the snow,” advised Blizzard. “It’ll help. A bullet-burn’s no fun. I should know.” The she-wolf looked down her side, and for the first time, I noticed a long scar from her shoulder to her hip. It was almost invisible against her white coat. 

I sighed and did as I was told. She was right; it _did_ feel better.

“As soon as the heat’s out we should move on,” she continued. “Once humans start shooting at you then you’ve worn out your welcome.”

I looked up without moving my head. “How do you know so much about humans?” I asked. The question had been nagging me for some time. “How did you learn all this?”

“Well, Mom was a –” Skolar started to say.

Blizzard snapped at him and he fell silent again. Then she turned and answered my question. “Let’s just say our mother was well-acquainted with humans, and leave it at that.”

I sighed and nodded in the snow. Honestly, the wound hurt too much for me to really care at the moment.

* * *

_Blizzard_

I could have _killed_ my brother for what he had nearly let slip. He knew as well as I did how Kuzketa felt about dogs. I shuddered, imagining his reaction if he knew what I really was: a quarter-strain wolf-dog.

I grew up in a human village, surrounded on all sides by creatures that hated me for my heritage. My mother and brother had been my only solace. It was why I still tolerated Skolar’s idiocy. Mother was the child of a husky that had ran away from the village during a famine. My grandmother had met up with a drifter wolf and became his mate. But when a hunter killed her wolf Grandmother returned to the village and bore my mother and her siblings. In time history repeated itself and Mother did the same. But she and our father were caught before we were born.

I sighed as I watched my mate cringe against the snow. In this mood, he seemed so helpless – a puppy in need of a friend. He would have little liked the comparison; he was a born fighter and detested being thought weak. He was hated almost blindly; his mother’s death had scarred him far more than he had Skolar. Yet for all his faults I loved Kuzketa, and I knew he loved me as well. But still I could not bear for him to learn the truth, and thus perhaps have his adoration turn to revulsion.

So he would never know how I got my own bullet-burn scar. I would never be able to tell him of my years robbing traplines after our “master” abandoned my brother and me for my thievery in the village. He would never know of the mate I had taken once before, and told everything to; the one who had attacked me as an abomination. I’d been bullet-burned once; I wouldn’t feel the fire a second time. 


	4. Paradise Lost

It wasn’t long before spring came, and so did our children: three lively young males who loved life and inherited the best qualities of both Blizzard and I. The eldest, Kazan, was mostly brown: his ears were darker, as was a line down his back, and a lighter shade ran down his nose. Only his underside was white; the bottom of his jaw, his belly, and the backs of his legs all the same color as his mother’s coat. He was domineering and wary, but very protective of his mother.

The second male, Baree, looked somewhat like Skolar; he was gray and white, but with brown ears and a darker gray saddle. He also had black streaks on his shoulders, back, and haunches. He was the most violent of the pups, prone to angry outbursts and vengeful whenever someone harmed him – as Skolar learned when he accidentally stepped on him in the morning. He loved water, and I often had the pleasure of watching him and Blizzard swim in the shallows of the river near the den.

The third pup, Zali, was gray as well with white markings. His coat, however, was almost one monotone shade. The only interesting thing about him was the white splashes over his eyes. He was a weak wolf, always giving of himself and allowing the others to eat before he did. He _was_ brave, however; such as when an eagle came down from the sky and tried to make off with the rabbit he had caught. Zali attacked the bird, clamping his jaws on one of its wings. He would have been one dead pup had his mother and I not been there, but still, I admired his spunk.

The pups brought out a change in Skolar; ever since our fight, he had disliked being approached on his blind side. But he never once said a word to the pups when they came up and licked the fur where his eye had once been. He would play with them for hours, good-naturedly enduring their antics. It was all very entertaining.

But our peaceful days were not to last. One day large flying monsters came and flew low over my pack and I. Before we could run the monsters’ companions stung us, and in moments the world went black.

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I did was to look for my pack. All five were there, scattered around me. I watched with some concern as they wobbled to their feet and came over to me. As we came together we began to groom each other’s fur. It was then that I snarled; on all our bodies was the human scent. Worst of all was that a hard black band similar to the one the dog had worn encircled my mate’s neck.

“What the hell happened?” I demanded, not that I expected an answer.

Blizzard shook out her coat with a snarl of her own. “We’ve been relocated,” she snapped. “Or had you not noticed that we’re not home?”

In all honesty in the wake of the human scent, my mind had become such a tangle of rage that I had not taken in our surroundings. There was green grass under my feet far as the eye could see. Tall trees blocked the sky and towered over us. And the wind was warmer than I had ever known. We were _very_ far from the world I had grown up in.

“The humans brought us here?” I asked Blizzard, trying to make sense of the sudden change in scenery.

“Apparently,” she replied, pawing at the band around her neck in a vain attempt to remove it. “I’ve heard of this happening; those flying things are some form of human transport. Sometimes humans get it into their heads that a pack will be better off somewhere else and move them.”

I turned my nose to the wind, looking for any sign of danger. I growled even though I smelled nothing. “Any chance they’ll come back?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Blizzard shrugged, “maybe not. All I know is we should get moving either way.”

I nodded and walked over to her. “First things first,” I said, taking the band in my teeth. “ _This_ isn’t staying on you!”

It took all my strength but I managed to snap the band in two. We left it lying on the ground as we disappeared into the trees. We would have to find ourselves a new home in this strange, too-green world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuzketa’s pack from Alaska was displaced to Yellowstone during the wolf reintroduction program. The “band” was a radio collar.


	5. Surrender

Im time we grew accustomed to the warmer weather. The prey was smaller, and rodents were more abundant. By the next spring our sons were fine hunters. We controlled a decent-size hunting ground, and Blizzard had just given birth to our second litter. It would still be a while yet before they would emerge. Yet we should have known better than to tempt fate. 

The day destiny decided to put us in our places I took Skolar and the boys on a hunt same as I had since the birth of the pups. We wouldn’t go far, but we would need food soon, and I never liked to wait until the last minute. It never occurred to me there was any danger. So I smiled at Blizzard and lead our hunters away.

“Don’t let the little monsters get to you,” I told her with a laugh.

She smiled at me and nodded. “You’ve all the skill you need, so I won’t wish you luck.”

* * *

We returned a few hours later, each of us carrying a portion of our kill that had been left over once we’d eaten. A shift in the wind brought the scent of blood to our noses and we all stopped short. A howl tore through the air and my heart lurched. It was Blizzard. I dropped my burden and raced for the den. The sight that met my eyes made me sick to my stomach. My mate lay several feet from the entrance, crying as she ran her paws over her blood-soaked face.

“Blizzard?” I asked hesitantly. “What happened?”

Her ears twitched and she turned toward my voice. Her eyes were completely gone. There were gashes all across her face. It looked far worse than Skolar had long ago. She snarled in rage and pain. “What does it look like?” she snapped. “Some over-grown cat showed up. I went for a drink and when I came back it was digging in the den. I attacked, and it slapped me aside like a twig. I think I hit a tree. I’m not sure though; I can’t see a damn thing now!”

I walked over and began to clean the blood from her face. 

She growled and snapped at me.

Thankfully I was ready and moved aside. I heard the others come up behind us.

“Don’t bother,” she said, more hurt than angry. She turned away from me. “If I can’t see, I can’t hunt. I’m a dead wolf walking.”

I said nothing. She was right.

“We’ll hunt for you, Mom,” said Zali. He walked over and placed the chunk of meat he carried in front of her. “Don’t worry.”

“Are you going to lead me around everywhere, too?” she demanded without moving at all. “It’s over, son. Only the strong survive. Good-bye.”

* * *

The slaughter of the pups was a tragedy, but nothing compared to the impending loss of my mate. We stayed near Blizzard for weeks, trying to convince her to eat. She refused and told us to leave. She wouldn’t be pitied or aided. If she couldn’t do it for herself, then she didn’t want anyone else to do it for her. I admired her stand and silently agreed. It was what I would have done had been in her situation. But still I tried; I loved her too much to just let go. I even brought her a fish, her favorite since we arrived in these strange surroundings. She ignored it completely.

Later that night, when I was sure all the others were asleep, I walked quietly over to Blizzard. I nuzzled her shoulder. She didn’t even bother to growl anymore. I sighed and then tried one last time.

“Blizzard, I know you can hear me. You could survive this. Wolves don’t abandon their pack-mates. If you would let us help you, you could make it. You know that. Blizzard…” I swallowed hard and did something I had never expected to do. I begged. “Please. _Please_ don’t give up like this.”

“There is no mercy in this world and none in you, either,” she said at last, but her voice was tender now, regretful. “You abhor weakness, and that’s all I am now – a weakness. A pack is the sum of its individuals. If you’re always protecting me, you won’t be able to protect yourselves.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” I confessed. Had it been anyone save Blizzard I would never have shown such weakness. For some reason, with her I could drop my guard without fear she would take advantage of it. “I was never whole until you. _Please,_ Blizzard. I need you. I love you.”

She sighed. “Don’t beg, Kuzketa. It just doesn’t sound right in your voice. Do you know the memory I hold on to most now? What I see in my mind?”

“No,” I replied, not sure I wanted to know.

“The last pleasant thing I remember seeing is your face. I love you, Kuzketa. Don’t ever doubt that. My life and our pups’ lives is a high enough price for my mistake. I will not be the reason you die, too.”

There was nothing left to try, nothing I could do. I surrendered, as I had always known I must. “I will never forget you, Blizzard. Say hello to my mother for me.” I licked her face one last time. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replied. “Good-bye, Kuzketa.”

The next morning she was dead. The boys, Skolar, and I howled our farewell and left the area for good. No one wanted to stay there any longer.


	6. Chapter 6

After the death of my mate, I felt empty inside, hollow. This was more painful than the loss of my mother; I wasn’t alone in my grief, and somehow that made it worse. Though my heart wasn’t in it, I began to search for a she-wolf drifter. We were a pack of males, and to survive we needed a female to bear the pack’s pups. All my mate had asked of me was to be the wolf she loved, and to live. I would not let her down now.

I’m not sure when we came upon the small band of wolves – you couldn’t call such a motley crew a pack. There was a single black female and a couple of naïve males. For days I went alone and watched them, observing them. Only the she-wolf intrigued me; she was clearly the leader, clever, and obviously had little patience for her companions. The males were foolish creatures in the same league as Skolar.

At last, I made my decision. She wasn’t as good as Blizzard had been, but she would do. I thought long and hard about just how to approach her. To do so directly would be a mistake; she and her companions had claimed the territory they roamed and would drive off any intruder.

Skolar looked up as I returned to our resting place. The boys took no notice of me and continued to fight over a bone from last night’s kill.

“You finally make up your mind?” asked my mate’s brother with a slight growl. He didn’t approve of my actions. But then, he didn’t have to.

“Yes,” I replied with a growl of my own. “She’ll do. As soon as I have a plan we’ll approach them.”

Skolar was on his feet in seconds. “My sister has been dead less than a moon and you’re already looking for another mate? Have you no shame at all?” he snarled.

The boys looked up from their tussle to stare at us. He was going to regret it if he didn’t stop talking _now_. I would not be made a fool of.

“I’m not looking for a mate in the sense Blizzard was to me,” I said, glaring into his eyes. He began to back away. “I will never find that again. All I seek is a partner. Regardless, you have no say in the matter.”

He looked away first and nodded. “Understood.”

“Good.”

I stalked past him to my bed. I needed some sleep if I was going to come up with something that would fool the black she-wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my story. If you want to find out just what Kuzketa comes up with, check out Shade-of-the-Night’s "Shadow Walker". 
> 
> Some people might call this story an original work. I, however, consider it fanfiction due to the fact it greatly resembles the books mentioned on the cover page. Without them, there would be no Kuzketa, Blizzard, or any of the other characters. There would be no story.
> 
> Kuzketa is my take on The Black Wolf in Snow Dog. Skolar is a blend of Call of the Wild’s Billie and Sol-leks. Kazan and Baree are obviously based upon their namesakes. Blizzard is much like Kiche from White Fang. I highly recommend them to any dog lover.
> 
> The part where our hero gives his mate a fish was based on a similar scene in "Shadow Walker". I mainly added it to tie the stories together. But now this story is over, and I thank you for taking the time to read it.


End file.
